Chasing Shadows Page 18

  “Well, if he didn’t do it, who did?”

  Avery jumped, startled at Mildred’s sudden appearance at her side. She hadn’t heard her grandmother come up behind her. The elderly woman appeared to be taking the situation in stride.

  Cam—Jennifer shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Then why bring him up at all?” Mildred pressed. Standing beside Mildred, Jane nodded her approval of the question.

  “I figured that if all cops are like that bald-headed bastard I met the other day, then they’d do the easy thing and go straight to him and it would be case closed.”

  Mildred nodded in agreement. “I agree. Why just the other day I was telling Jane here that—”

  “Wait,” Avery said, brought out of her stupor by Jennifer’s words. “Bald-headed bastard? You mean Detective Bishop? Is that who you’ve been talking about?”

  Jennifer pursed her lips—Cam’s lips—and nodded. “Yeah, I think that was his name.”

  “That doesn’t make any sense,” Avery frowned. “Bishop was on the scene first. If he’d met with Jennifer…I mean…” Avery rubbed at the bandage around her injured hand. If she wasn’t experiencing some psychotic break and this was in fact the ghost of Jennifer Morris in possession of Cam’s body, she didn’t want to insult her. After all, how often did a police detective get to interview their own murder victim? Remember to say that to the psychiatrist when all this is over, Avery thought before continuing, “If he’d met you before, then surely he would have recognized the bod—um, you. Why didn’t he say anything?”

  “Maybe he had something to hide,” Mildred suggested.

  Avery flashed a glance at her grandmother before turning back to Jennifer. “Why did you go to see Bishop in the first place?”

  One shoulder shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “Some details are clear as a bell, and others…” She waved a hand. “…fuzzy.”

  “Think, please,” Avery pressed, “it could be important. What would you have gone to see the police about? Was someone bothering you?”

  “No…” Jennifer frowned and rubbed at her—Cam’s—forehead. “None of that. It was… A book! Yeah, that’s what it was. The book.”

  Avery looked past Cam to the small bookshelf that lined the wall by the closet. On each shelf, in between a pair of sea shells being used as bookends, were rows of books. Some paperback, some hardback, most of them looked to be mystery novels. “Like, what kind of book?”

  “A diary,” Jennifer said, “Ron, my boss, went to an estate sale a while back. They were selling the contents of each room as one unit, and he picked up one of the bedrooms. He only wanted the antique bedroom suite, so he gave me one of the dressers and the bookshelf from the room he’d bought.” She gestured toward the bookshelf by the closet. “It came with the books on it. When I finally got around to going through them all, I found that in with the books was a diary.”

  Avery exchanged glances with Mildred before asking, “Why would you need to go to the police about a diary?”

  Jennifer ran a hand through her hair—Cam’s hair. “Because it had a murder in it.”

  “What?” Avery’s eyes went wide. “A murder?”

  Nodding, Jennifer said, “Well, not exactly, but yes. See, it started out normal. The person who wrote it—and God, I would kill for her handwriting—would talk about her mother, things that happened at school, and this guy that she was hot after. They have sex—he was her first—and things get weird with him.”

  “Weird how?”

  “It sounded to me like he was just using the girl for sex and then dumped her. She didn’t clue in, and kept after him. The last entry has her sneaking out at night to meet with him and try to work it out. Nothing after that.”

  Avery shook her head. “So how does all that equate to murder?”

  “There were no more entries in the diary.” Making an exasperated noise, Jennifer stared at Avery. “Seriously, and you’re a detective? She has all these entries and then they stop, with only half the pages of the book filled, on the night that she’s going to meet the guy? What do you think happened?”

  “Well, I don’t know that I would have jumped right to murder…”

  “See?” Jennifer looked at Mildred. “Cops in this town. That’s the same thing the other detective said at first.”

  “At first?” Avery arched an eyebrow and took a step forward.

  “Yeah. He blew me off when I first went to the police station, but then about a couple weeks later he called and asked if I could meet him with the diary.”

  “And then?”

  “I was late.” Jennifer shrugged again. “We had a late client at the office and I had to work over. I met him at my place after work.”

  “Not the station?”

  “No.”

  Avery chewed on her lip as she considered the possibilities of what Jennifer was saying. “So you met Bishop here?”

  An odd expression overtook Jennifer’s face. “I don’t know.”

  “You don’t know?”

  “No,” Jennifer shook her head. “I, uh… I remember leaving Cam’s place and coming home, but then…” She blew out a long breath. “Nothing. I think that’s when it happened.”

  Avery thought for a long moment. “There wasn’t another car in the driveway when you arrived? Anyone waiting for you at the front door?”

  Lips pursed, Jennifer shook her head. “No, there was no one.”

  Nodding, Avery continued her questioning. “Jennifer, what happened to the diary?”

  “I imagine it’s still in the basement.”

  “The basement?”

  “Yeah,” Jennifer nodded. “Anytime I’m out of town for any length of time, I put my valuables in the clothes drier.” She gave an apologetic smile. “A habit I picked up from my mother. Her thought process was that if someone was going to break into your house, they probably weren’t going to do the laundry while they were at it,” she explained. “The diary was sitting on my nightstand while I was packing up my jewelry, and so I grabbed it, too.

  Avery had to admit the idea had merit, and it wasn’t the strangest hiding place she’d come across over the years. She wondered if that explained the voice that Cam had said she’d heard in the basement, remembering the day she and Cam had first came to the house. “Grandma,” she said to Mildred, “do you think you and Jane can go down to the basement and—”

  “We’re on it,” Mildred declared before Avery could finish her sentence. “C’mon, Jane.”

  Avery watched the pair hurry excitedly out of the room, obviously eager to accomplish their mission. Once she was satisfied they were beyond earshot, she turned back to face Jennifer. “Thank you for your help. I don’t know that the diary is going to lead us anywhere, to be honest, but it’s a start. Certainly, more than we had before.”

  “Well, seeing that it’s my murder and all…happy to be of service.”

  Avery nodded. “Good. Now, I think it’s time to give us Cam back.”

  “Why, Officer Hottie,” Jennifer winked an eye suggestively, “here I thought we had a good thing going.” Avery tilted her head and gave an impatient sigh. “All right, all right,” Jennifer said, waving one hand. “I feel like it’s time for me to be moving on, anyway.”

  Avery arched an eyebrow. “Moving on…like…moving on?” She looked around the room, half-expecting, half-afraid to see an ethereal mist or a door or some other paranormal sign. There was none.

  Jennifer nodded. “Yeah, I feel like something is pulling me to go.” She flashed a small smile. “I guess my work here is done.” A thoughtful look crossed her face and she took a step toward Avery, placing an icy hand on her shoulder. “But before I go, I need you to promise me two things.”

  “Okay.”

  “One, find the bastard that did this to me.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Avery nodded.

  “Good. And second, don’t fuck around and hurt Cam.”

  Of
all the things Avery expected Jennifer to say, that wasn’t one of them. “What?”

  “You know what I mean,” Jennifer said, her tone serious. “Cam has been hot after you since we were in high school. She’s had some pretty crappy relationships over the years. If you’re willing to commit to her and treat her right, then that’s great. But if you’re just going to play with her feelings and then dump her like that asshole in the diary…” Jennifer tightened her grip on Avery’s shoulder. “…then I will find a way to come back and haunt your ass.”

  Not quite sure what to say, Avery nodded her head.

  Seemingly satisfied with the response, Jennifer smiled. “That’s that, then.” Avery felt the grip on her shoulder loosen and then Jennifer’s eyes—Cam’s eyes—began to flutter. The color in her face faded, and Avery was barely quick enough to catch her before she fell to the ground.

  Chapter Eighteen

  “Jennifer wasn’t kidding—the handwriting in this thing is gorgeous. I mean, look at the loop on that Y.” Cam held the diary up for Mildred to see as she spoke. “And this C? I’ve been writing a capital C since I was in first grade and mine have never looked like that.”

  Despite Avery’s protests, Cam had opted to ride back from Jennifer’s with Mildred and Jane. She knew that if she’d gone with Avery, the other woman would have wanted to talk about the events that had just transpired, which was the last thing that Cam felt like doing. Energized by what they considered to be a successful operation, Mildred and Jane had chatted with each other the whole way home, leaving Cam to quietly contemplate the evening’s events in the backseat of the Honda.

  Now, back at the Smith house, the four of them sat in the kitchen. Cam and Mildred at the kitchen table, Jane tittering about around the stove making hot chocolate for everyone, and Avery… Cam gave what she hoped was a discreet glance in Avery’s direction to see that the other woman remained silently standing at the back door, staring out into the night through the door’s wooden blinds. It was a position she’d taken up soon after they’d arrived home.

  “Mmhmm,” Mildred nodded, squinting to read the words on the page. “We used to teach that in school right along with reading and arithmetic. Remember that, Jane?”

  “I do,” Jane said, not bothering to look back from the stove. Cam watched in mild fascination as the elderly woman heaped tablespoons full of cocoa powder and sugar into a pot just before pouring in a giant measuring cup full of milk. “It was always one of my favorite subjects,” she added, stirring the mixture with a whisk over the hot eye of the stove.

  Cam looked at Mildred with newfound curiosity. “I didn’t realize you were a teacher.”

  “Yep, for forty-two years.” Mildred seemed to sit a little straighter in the seat as she nodded. “In fact, that’s where I met Jane. She taught Home Ec in the classroom down the hall from mine.”

  “Really? And what did you teach?”

  “Grandma was a science teacher,” Avery said, suddenly appearing at the table. She slid into the seat across from Cam but didn’t make eye contact. “Chemistry was her favorite, as I recall.”

  “Millie always did like blowing things up,” Jane chirped, depositing a mug of hot chocolate in front of Cam.

  “Thanks,” Cam smiled and took a sip of the warm liquid. She immediately stiffened and coughed as the acrid aftertaste of alcohol burned at her throat. Eyes wide, she looked up at a smiling Jane.

  “Millie likes her hot chocolate with a splash of Patrón,” the elderly woman said sweetly, placing another mug down for Avery’s grandmother.

  “Patrón?” Cam choked out. “Tequila?”

  “That’s right,” Jane nodded. “I hope you don’t mind, dearie.”

  What is wrong with these women? Deciding that Jane definitely needed to revisit the definition of the word “splash,” Cam shook her head as she watched Mildred grin and take a generous swig of the toxic brew in her own mug.

  “So,” Avery said, finally turning her attention to Cam. “Did Jennifer mention this diary to you before she was kil...” She paused and cleared her throat. “Before?”

  Cam returned Avery’s stare for a long moment before breaking off. Jennifer Morris was not a subject she wanted to discuss right then. Possibly ever again. Cam picked up the mug and took another sip, this one guarded, wincing at the bite of the alcohol it contained. Maybe she should just down the whole thing and ask Jane for another. It certainly wouldn’t take more than that for Cam to get drunk enough to forget—hopefully—the events that had transpired at Jennifer’s house.

  There were, she mused, looking down at the steamy concoction swirling around in the Dollywood mug, worse things than getting drunk on spiked hot chocolate while sitting in the kitchen of your high school crush. Like being possessed by a ghost.

  Spirit possession was a common trope in the ghost-hunting business. In fact, a few of her competitors featured it on their shows. It usually involved one of the stars of the show going into a trance-like state, sometimes mumbling and speaking incoherently, sometimes running about the set wildly. Cam had always thought the notion of sprit possession to be, well, cheesy.

  The reality of it, though…

  Cam shivered at the thought of what had happened earlier in the evening, when Jennifer had taken over. There was no other way to describe it, really. One minute she’d been standing in the bedroom talking to Avery while Jennifer’s ghost flitted about between them, and the next Cam had become a passenger in her own body. She could hear Jennifer talking to Avery, feel her body move about the room, but she wasn’t the one in control.

  “Cam?”

  “No,” Cam looked up to meet Avery’s eyes again. “Not that I can recall.”

  “Hmm.” Sitting back in the chair, Avery sighed. “Maybe after we read it, we’ll get a better idea of what it says and how Bishop—and Jennifer’s murder—is linked to it.”

  “You think Bishop is involved in all this somehow?”

  Avery nodded. “Based on what Jennifer’s gho—” She paused to clear her throat again. “Based on what was said tonight, it certainly sounds like he is.”

  Cam bit back a frown. Even after everything that had happened, Avery still sounded skeptical. She took another cautious sip of the eighty-proof hot chocolate before pushing her chair back from the table. “Well, ladies, I think I need to call it a night while I’m still able to drive home.”

  “Home? There’s no point in being on the roads at this time of night. Just stay here.”

  Cam shook her head at Avery’s offer. “I appreciate it, but I’d really just like to get out of these clothes, take a shower, and get to bed.” She smiled at Jane and Mildred. “I appreciate your hospitality, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

  Avery shifted in the chair. Brow furrowed, nose crinkled, and lips twisted, Avery looked to Cam as though she was annoyed at not getting her way. The total effect was endearingly cute.

  “You’re not overstaying anything, and I insist. In case you’ve forgotten, there’s still a killer on the loose in Bethel Springs. I’d feel better if you stayed here again tonight,” Avery said and then quickly added, “All things considered.”

  “No,” Cam replied, standing from the chair. “I—” She threw a hand against the table as the room started to spin. Cam closed her eyes and took a steadying breath. Damn Mildred and damn her tequila-laced hot chocolate. Cam had skipped dinner, and it was obvious that the alcohol had gone right to her head.

  “Actually, it’s Mexican hot chocolate,” Jane said in a saccharine tone. “I usually make it with a sprinkle of cinnamon, but we’re out.”

  Cam’s head shot up, her eyes widening as she found that everyone in the room was staring at her. Horrified, she realized that she’d spoken the words aloud.

  “Hmmpf.” Eyes narrowing, Mildred crossed her arms in obvious irritation. “If you want to be that way, then—”

  “Oh, Grandma, hush,” Avery said, rising from the table. “I’m sure that was just the tequila talking.” Her ex
pression one of mild amusement, she took Cam by the arm. “C’mon, I think it’s time we all called it a night. And, as you’re obviously in no condition to drive, I’ll help you to the bedroom.”

  Cam opened her mouth to object again but closed it just as quickly when the room went whirling around again. Resigned to her fate, she leaned into Avery’s inviting shoulder and allowed the other woman to lead her out of the kitchen.

  They were halfway down the hallway when it hit Cam. She bit down hard on her bottom lip in an effort to maintain her composure. They’d just crossed the threshold into Avery’s bedroom when the first giggle bubbled out. Cam slapped a hand over her mouth in an attempt to contain the next. It didn’t work.

  Casting a sideways glance, Avery sat Cam down on the edge of the bed. “Did I miss the joke?”

  “No. Yes.” Cam drew in a deep breath. “I’m sorry, the absurdity of all of this…” She waved a hand through the air. “…just hit me all at once.”

  Avery, one eyebrow cocked, grinned down at Cam. “I’m sure the Patrón didn’t help.”

  “No, it certainly didn’t.” Rubbing at her eyes, Cam laughed again. “Avery, when all of this is over, we need to have a serious discussion about your grandmother. She’s—”

  “Going to hear you if you keep talking that loud.” Avery rushed to quickly close the door. “I’d rather not get World War III started back up tonight, thank you. And whatever you’re going to say—don’t bother. Believe me, I’ve known her my whole life. Nothing she does would surprise me.” Her eyes lighting, she gave Cam a big grin. “Remind me sometime to tell you about the time she and Jane got into a brawl with the preacher’s wife at the Kroger over canned biscuits. Now, though,” she said, stepping to her dresser, “let me find you something to change into.”

  Cam watched as Avery began to open and rifle through the dresser drawers. She suddenly found herself transfixed by the movement. Avery seemed intent on finding a particular item of clothing that didn’t want to be found. She opened one drawer and then another, rifling through the contents of each. Now on her third drawer, Avery bent to explore its contents, her pale, loose-fitting shirt riding up to reveal the tanned skin of her lower back as she did. Cam’s eyes were drawn lower, to the khaki pants that fit snuggly around the curves of Avery’s ass.